


The Center of His Universe

by Doctorinblue



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kibbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6645241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctorinblue/pseuds/Doctorinblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs and Kate struggle to deal with the aftermath of her being kidnapped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rain and Gibbs

It was the same pounding rain as the two previous days, chasing itself down the panes and the building until it was far out of sight. This wasn't the same day though. That was the critical bit of information that Kate couldn't let herself lose sight of or she'd likely lose her sharp grip on being a functioning human.

The previous two days she'd listened to the normally comforting sound of rain from inside a stranger's basement, hands bound behind her, head resting against a solid and cold stone wall.

She had spent those two days alternating between something close to panic and a deep and just as frightening sense of embarrassment at allowing herself to be kidnapped in the first place. The fear was left behind in that freezing room, shed with the bindings that Gibbs had pulled off her with a gentle touch that had threatened to break her.

At least she had tried to leave it behind.

He'd allowed her to cling to him, allowed her to sob, and held her with a quiet, solid comfort. He had been the one to have her checked out, finding her with the most minor of injuries outside of her pride. Gibbs was the one to drive her home, and walk her to her door. He had taken her keys from her shaking hands, and had let her pretend it was nothing outside of exhaustion.

He had even lingered, when she had stepped inside, while the rain soaked into his clothes and ran down his cheeks. He had looked so lost, so much like had nearly lost something far more valuable than any price she could put on herself, that she nearly invited him in. Reason had won, and she had closed the door, but it was a bitter victory for reason and for her.

It wasn't as if was the first time she'd been kidnapped, she had reminded herself. The novelty had already worn off, right? Now it was just boring and tedious. She had started the mantra of telling herself she was fine when she had crawled into the bed, and the rain and thunder had suddenly seemed more ominous than they had since she was a child.

Kate had squeezed her eyes closed into the darkness, wishing for arms to keep the world at bay, and tried so hard to pretend she wasn't a wrong noise away from running to her car and driving until she reached the only person who could make her feel safe in that moment.

The same man who was now white-knuckling a file he'd been staring at-not reading- for the last half hour. He'd spared her no more than a glance when she had dragged herself in, exhaustion untouched by the very real inability to sleep, but he hadn't turned her back around-hadn't sent her home again.

It had been silent, though. Since she'd arrived, even Tony was absent in his joking, eyes trained on the computer before him. He was tapping on the keyboard in the pecking way he had, avoiding her eyes nearly as completely as Gibbs had been.

Kate's attention fell back over Gibbs, straight-backed and narrow-eyed, every bit an unmovable force as he had been a million times before during a case. Only now the case was over, she was safe and he was still sitting there-the perfect picture of a stalled storm, taking up all the space and darkening their area with his mood. Kate couldn't help but wonder if he would fizzle himself out, or if they'd be swept out with the undertow before he finally broke.

She preferred the smiles he showered her with, liked that sometimes she could tell that she was a little special to him, he was even a bit proud. She wanted the moments where she felt like the center of his universe, saw him smile crookedly as if they were the only two in the universe who were in on a joke, and she hated that she had caused him any pain at all by her mistake. She hated that she had made any mistake at all.

"Gibbs," She finally said, sighing softly into the air between them.

His head jerked to her at once, eyes dark and angry before they softened against her expression, her face. Those same eyes ran over her, down over the cheekbone she had covered so carefully with makeup to the bruise he couldn't see on her neck. He looked desperate, to erase them, to make them as non-existent as they had been before her days in the basement.

She'd expected his anger, fumbled into his compassion.

She wasn't sure where the line was drawn, or what words or actions would tip it so she said nothing as he lingered on the cheek with the bruise he would always know was there, long after it was gone. He'd always see it, always take on some blame no matter how much of it was her fault, that much she knew.

"Should have stayed home," he finally said, dropping the file, and his eyes to his desk.

Anger sparked in her, she had never needed to be babied. Right now, though, the truth was that she couldn't handle being home. She couldn't stand being alone, and while she knew she'd be fine soon, right now she needed to be here just as much as he did.

"I didn't need to stay home."

He reached a hand out, pulling the coffee that had been sitting on the edge of his desk since he had arrived to him. Gibbs drank, his face darkening farther at finding only coldness within its contents. His eyes didn't find hers again, he stared down at his cup as if it had personally betrayed him and she struggled to come up with any words that could call his attention back to her. Her emotions were a little too free today, and the need to be strong was steadily losing to the need to be anything else for a few minutes or hours or days.

She needed him to look at her again. She needed to know if this was something she could fix, if maybe by helping him come to terms with it, she could too.

Hell, she just needed Gibbs and she wasn't sure what that said about her mental state at all.

Silence was his answer. That much she was used to. Gibbs wore silence for any mood.

He stood, dropping his cup into the trash can and rounding his desk with his coat. He was sliding it on and buttoning it, not stopping until he was halfway to the elevator. Gibbs looked back, avoiding her eyes, and finding Tony's instead.

"No one leaves until I get back," he said, in the dark tone that could pull a confession out of nearly any lips.

Kate swallowed away a lump that shouldn't exist, and Tony gave a quick nod to Gibbs.

"Got it, boss," he agreed, then leaned slightly into the gap between him and Gibbs. "We'll be here when you get back."

It was vow, a promise Tony would never dream of breaking, and then Gibbs was gone. Tony gave her a smile, a kind nod, and she wondered how long it would be until they returned to normal. Gibbs was gone, probably off getting more of the liquid he called coffee, but he had left his storm behind to pour all over them. She could only hope they found a way to calm it, before everyone drowned.


	2. Chapter 2

The rain wouldn't stop falling. It soaked into his skin and clothes, making him heavy, with so much more important things than liquid. He was pinned inside a memory, Kate was still tied up in that basement, and his blood was still cold and thick even after he fingers had found her pulse.

He wanted the sun to come out, because maybe then he could shove whatever the hell he felt for Kate down into the pit inside himself in which all the unacceptable emotions went to die. It'd be a favor to them both, if he remembered every rule he had, and kept himself inside his self imposed guidelines.

Those same rules were big enough to offer him an out, a viable excuse to explain away the feeling of lead in his gut when thought of something like this kidnapping being able shake Kate free of his orbit. It was simple, really. You don't waste good, and Kate was made of good. She was a good agent, and a damn good person- a hazard in their line of work- and oh, what a waste it would be for her to stumble away from them now.

Kate would likely roll her eyes and make a smart comment if she knew how much he wished he could have spared her the kidnapping and the following pain, but then she might bite her lip and lean closer into his caring so much, and that was a trade that wasn't necessary. He loved both parts of her, and the combination would surely be some sort of perfect torture.

It was one he'd not get to witness if he could keep the words lodged in his throat, buried in his mind. Gibbs wouldn't admit that his anger wasn't anger, that his fear had gotten the better hold on his emotions and that hadn't happened in a very long time. Kate wasn't something he could lose, and he saw only one way to keep her-and that was him keeping his distance.

Gibbs really needed a strong cup of coffee, he thought, even as he pulled a drink from his current one.

No, that wasn't it. Something a lot harder was needed, the sort of drink that would fill his stomach with warmth, and he could drown in the smell of sawdust. He'd pour himself into his work, and pour bourbon into himself, and the combination would make the letting go easier to do. This wasn't the first night he'd had to convince himself he didn't love-couldn't love- Kate.

When he was somewhere a hell of a lot closer to drunk than he currently resided, it was much simpler to not focus on why she was the first one he reached for when they were under fire. She was the first on his mind as they moved into danger, danger that she would never blink at, danger she accepted as they all had accepted. Kate was his to protect though, his to guard with his life, with his everything.

That wasn't going to change. It was why the kidnapping had rattled him so much, a reminder that he couldn't actually stand as a barrier, no matter how much he wanted to do so.

There was no more pretending he was angry when he finally stepped inside. Gibbs was too tired, too full of the jagged pieces he was pretty sure had once been a heart. He couldn't tell Kate anything, couldn't show her how much he wanted to be her soft place to fall.

He would be a soft place to land, no matter how it seemed, but he'd be a hell of hard place to live. Gibbs could let her cry it out, kill or die for her, but he had empirical evidence that was not what made a happy ever after.

If he couldn't give her that, he didn't get her. Life was simpler in black and white, a lot less fun, but simpler.

The bullpen was still silent when he returned, shedding his coat, lowering his coffee to the desk. He looked at his team, his family, and knew that right now he needed nothing more than to be alone. To be honest, and he hated that he hadn't really noticed until now, that they were so tired as well. His focus these days was all too often narrowed down to brunette hair and the sort of smile he could draw on her face with his words and charm.

He looked in the space between the desks, unwilling to call out any individual attention, but needing to speak to them all.

"Go home," he instructed, dropping down into his chair, with a weary sigh. "Been a long few days."

He didn't expect protest, knew that a long few days was a gross understatement. Kate going missing had hit them all hard, reminding each of them how closely you drew in someone who you trusted with your life. They were bigger than family, tighter than too.

He glanced at McGee, who was gathering his gear obediently. Gibbs didn't even need to look at Tony to know that his most loyal agent, probably friend, was already doing as he was told. However, the one person he needed most to exit his space so he might find the air she stole, was sitting still at her desk.

He really didn't want to acknowledge her, didn't want to give anything between them the power to draw his eyes, but they found her face anyway. Kate looked desperate, scared even. It wasn't a look he cared to see on her face ever again, but something in him knew that this was for the best. This was for Kate, even if she couldn't see it quite yet. He'd do anything for her, after all.

Even if being such a hard ass, was actually starting to make him feel like an ass.

"Go home, Kate," he said.

His gaze was as close to steel as he could manage, his tone unwavering. He couldn't risk showing gentle, being kinder, because he needed to pretend he didn't care about or notice the state of Kate's mind or heart right now. She'd survive, become stronger, if only they could make it through this.

Soon, it'd be okay that they didn't break and fall into each other- as appealing as the idea was.

She nodded at last, too stubborn and way too strong to ask for his help, or any help. And then they were gone, leaving him with exactly what he asked for, what he dreaded. Himself.


	3. Chapter 3

His door was unlocked. Tony had been the first one to tell her about it, but the information was far from being a secret, falling from Gibbs' mouth often enough for her to believe it was an open invitation for his team. Gibbs would be there, in that basement most likely, when their world became a little too dark to navigate alone-or the job was too much of a reminder of just how deep and long that darkness could run. He'd be light, the beacon, and he'd carry them for just as long as it took for them to remember they could-had to- walk on their own again.

Tony had reminded her, on the elevator about Gibbs' door, when she politely refused to have dinner with him. He wasn't asking her out, wasn't flirting, was being every bit the good friend she knew he was capable of being, but she still had to turn him down. He hadn't even looked hurt, just worried, and had touched her arm carefully-as if she might break- and she didn't even have the energy to be insulted.

Tony had even admitted that he had come to Gibbs more than once, squashed her pride before it could show itself. Tony did know her, and he did know Gibbs. He trusted Gibbs to let her in, to remind her of her strength and that was what had led her here after all.

Kate stood on his doorstep now, counting down from ten for at least the fifteenth time since she had arrived, umbrella protecting her from the storm that wouldn't end. Her hand had been hovering near his door handle, but after a few rounds of the countdown, she had dropped it back down to her side. She wondered if it really _was_ acceptable to ask your boss to help you fight your demons, or if he'd be curious how she knew he would have enough experience for them both at it.

The door before her would open, there was nothing keeping her outside but herself, and that terrified her. She was able to just invite herself into the world Gibbs kept outside of work, but that didn't mean he would be glad of her presence tonight.

Gibbs had seemed so angry during the day, distant and unreachable and when he sent her home so coldly, she'd been angry and hurt. Yet, she had still come to him feeling no regrets about the choice at all, only worry of what he might think.

She wanted him to want her here, she realized, or at the very least accept her as a member of his team who he could save for at least a few minutes tonight. She didn't want him to think her weak, that he'd made a bad choice letting her on his team. Gibbs didn't tolerate less than the best, but still...he had let Tony come, had whispered the comment about his door as if that was all that was needed, to her more than once since she had started. He would let her stay, she decided, nothing else mattered in the end.

Kate took in a deep breath and pushed the door open, relieved when she could step inside to the warmer air. Closing the umbrella, she laid it against the wall and moved farther into his space. She had thought of coming before. For far longer than she would care to admit, she'd been curious about the man beyond a professional level.

She wondered about his home, about his life when he was alone to live it, and way too often about the feel of his lips against her with her back against his wall. For all the reasons she had to come before, she had always managed to convince herself not to and now the most innocent of them had stolen the joy of seeing his space for the first time with nothing more than curious eyes.

Tonight, she moved through the house feeling like she was wading in the open air, not quite broken but sure as hell not whole either. Moving into the living room, she found it to be exactly as she would have guessed if anyone asked her opinion. It was simple and tidy and everything Gibbs showed himself to be in his job and his personality.

Kate allowed herself to walk to the fire, to squat down and warm her hands and face, while she planned her next move. She was still on the verge of turning and running home, and not quite courageous enough to seek him out down in the basement yet.

She felt so alone, even here, even in his home. She didn't feel better at all, only warmer. Gibbs wasn't going to come up here, wasn't going to meet her halfway, reach out to help her. She was going to have to drag herself to him, was probably going to have to ask, she was going to-

"Kate," he said, softly from behind her.

She let his voice wash over her, as she wiped from her cheeks the evidence of tears she hadn't planned to cry. His voice was soft, and warm, filled with something between surprise and relief and he had poured everything she needed him to say into only a single word.

"I thought-" she started, turning to face him.

He was moving towards her, looking sad and worried and strong and solid. He was dressed in a sweatshirt that looked soft enough to rest against and khaki pants that fit him nicely. Gibbs looked steady, but she could smell the bourbon on his breath and it did nothing to dissuade her from wanting to lean against him. If anything, it was so him, it drew her in closer.`

"Kate," he said, again.

It was as if her name was all that could be said, the only thing that mattered. She'd slipped into his vision, felt the power of his focus draw her emotions out, giving her permission to fall if she really needed to.

"I can't do this,' she started, clearing her throat and swallowing a couple times. "I can't do this alone."

"C'mere," he said, and he was reaching for her.

In the end, it was Gibbs who finally crossed the divide that she couldn't figure out how to traverse. It was him that pulled her against his chest, and held her tightly while her resolve shattered against his floor and her tears soaked into his shirt. Gibbs never wavered as she poured herself out over him, and she didn't have to look to know that he was an unmovable wall no matter how her storm would blow against it.

He wouldn't run. Not now, now this time.

When her sobbing had turned to sniffles, and at last that too faded away into only the two of them breathing and the fire cracking in the night, she realized she wanted to feel embarrassed. Tomorrow, she very well might, but right now exhaustion was pulling on her, and Gibbs was still muttering softness into her hair and stroking her back with idle, soft fingers.

Finally, reason caught up with comfort, and she knew that letting them battle it out wouldn't do her any favors.

She didn't need reminders of rules, or comments that hadn't been made for a Tony that was already out of earshot. She needed Gibbs to know that she expected nothing of him, hadn't come here because she loved him, but simply because she needed him to be her friend tonight.

She needed him to be Gibbs, and he had done that with a tenderness that was hard to equate with the man he had been in the office today.

"Shoulda been me," he muttered into her hair.

The statement was too honest, showed too much of his soul, and was so unlike what Gibbs would say that she wondered if he had meant to let her hear it at all. Now, she really had to go. Even if she wanted to stay, even if she finally felt safe for the first time in what felt like weeks. She wouldn't let him walk himself into a corner, let him lash out at her because she had caused it by coming.

He didn't resist when she pulled back, just let his arms slide off her and land at his side. His shirt had a wet patch at her height against his chest, but she didn't let her gaze linger. He didn't look angry that she was here, but he also didn't look as though he had done anything bigger than taking care of his one of his own.

"I should go," she finally said, stepping back. She didn't pull her eyes away from his, couldn't look away now.

"You could stay," he said, shrugging.

He looked casual, but there was something in his eyes. It was desperation, a worry that hadn't faded yet, one that she knew he could easily see reflected back at him.

"Okay," she agreed, and he was reaching out for her again.

He took her hand, and his was warm and rough and Kate wasn't at all surprised that it felt like home.

**Gibbs**

The boat was more than little dangerous, if he was being honest. It had never been that on purpose, was simply a way to fill the hours that work didn't, to keep him this side of sane when he was riding the rail a little too hard. It had, on occasion, become a tool in his flirtation though. He would lean his weight against someone's back, and let soft words against warm skin lead where it was going to lead.

Now, though, he was only trying to show her his safe place-only wanted Kate to see the place he thought she too might feel warm and okay, in a world that wasn't doing them any favors.

He let go of her hand at the bottom of the stairs, with all his willpower being used up, and went to turn off the TV he hadn't been watching in the first place.

When he turned back to her, she was standing exactly as he had left her. Her shoulders were slumped, her eyes red-rimmed and he wanted to hold her again until she finally returned to the woman who would kick his ass for looking at her with something that even resembled pity-not that he pitied her.

Kate, his Kate, she was going to be fine. Everyone needed a place to rest, and he was so very glad that she had come to him even after all the detour signs he had laid out before her. She didn't give up, didn't stop going after what she wanted, and right now she wanted him.

He hated that she was hurting, but felt so lucky she let him see it so honestly.

"Kate," he said again.

He wasn't exactly chatty on his best days, but tonight he'd been falling remarkable short. He had all the words, they just didn't break free, were buried under _shouldn'ts_ and _couldn'ts_ and he'd have to dig for a quite a while before they would ever reach her ears.

"So this is the boat," she finally said, when she realized there was actually no follow up from her name.

He nodded, letting out a relieved breath and turned to face it. He ran his fingers over sanded wood and moved his eyes back to her. She was moving closer, to stand beside him. Her warmth soaked into his side, and he swallowed away anything but the purest reaction to her proximity.

"It's beautiful," she said, reaching her fingers to lay beside his. He laid his hand over hers after a moment, and smiled when she met his eyes. "Not that I know much about boats."

"I can show you more, sometime," he said, managing as many words as that for the first time since she'd arrived. "Teach ya."

He wasn't sure why he offered it, other than the fact that he honestly wanted to spend more time with Kate. For the first time, in what felt like lifetimes, he found himself wishing he had someone to come home to-as long as that someone was her. He'd like to show her himself, let her in, even if it took a long time and it was bit by bit for it to happen. Any excuse to bring Kate here again, even with the dangers of the boat brought into the mix, was a welcome one.

"Gibbs," Kate breathed out at the same time he whispered her name.

They laughed, and he felt like he was finally free of the whirlwind he'd been in since Kate had been found. He felt young. Not like a teenager, exactly, but like love was still something untainted, and it was still a solid thing, all before him not broken in pieces behind.

He'd do anything if she could feel the same way.

He'd move worlds for Kate, had already left his reason behind on a plane when he'd been reminded how much fire could live inside a woman. He'd known feisty, and then he'd known the sort of blaze Shannon had carried, that Kate carried and it would never be fair to compare them, but he finally felt like it was okay to remember what love had felt like. He finally felt like it was okay to really let himself do it again, to burn up with something so pure you would gladly become ashes.

He'd burn to the ground with Kate, for Kate, and trust her to build him up again.

He was turning, to offer to let her stay, to sleep in his bed-alone, despite what he very much wanted- when he noticed how close she was to him. Gibbs could breathe her in, and she smelled like a flower he couldn't identify but wanted to find a field of and lay in forever, and he was lowering his mouth to hers. It wasn't a choice, not a decision he made with his mind, but as their lips connected he couldn't bring himself to choose anything else.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly, I chickened out of actually smut here (maybe next time?) But here is the last chapter for this particular story. I hope you enjoy. :)

His lips moving slowly against hers, the second hand taste of bourbon being smoothed against her tongue, probably should have been enough to awaken the part of Kate's brain that was supposed to step up and handle reasoning. However, with Gibbs' body pressing her back, and his boat holding her strong, she wasn't able to handle much thinking outside of realizing that this moment was a few very good dreams becoming reality.

Gibbs groaned softly into her mouth, wrapping an arm tighter around her and shifting his hips against hers (there was no ignoring how much he seemed to be into this, wanted her) and she could only hold on a little tighter at the noise. The fingers of his other hand ran up her leg, over her hip, before toying with the hem of her shirt once more.

Just as Kate thought he was going to stop himself, as he had the few times before-slide his fingers back down her thigh( much to her disappointment)- she felt the fabric bunch up, and after what felt like forever, he was touching her bare skin. His fingers, so hot and real, trailed up her side and she returned his noise of appreciation and pushed her body harder against his.

Gibbs was the first of them to give into the need for air, pulling back to nearly pant hot breath against her mouth, before tilting his head back enough to drink her in. His eyes were so full, so dark, as he ran them over her face, down her neck and over her body. For the first few seconds, breaths, it was only lust she saw from him. He carried a want for her that was so raw and honest that it made it hard to breathe all over again, and she felt she was seeing it for the first time. That look on Gibbs was enough to make her never want to leave, no matter how much trouble came for them, no matter how he would try to drive to them apart.

It wasn't long before something in him shifted though, and she could watch his head clearing as his brain managed to catch up to his body. He was too responsible for this, had taken on their lives and their fears and so much of them when he hired them, and it was _that_ Gibbs that was going to stop this. She could see it, shining back at her as his eyes found the bruise on her cheek that he couldn't see, and the one on her neck that would be too obvious with her shirt partly unbuttoned. It was that Gibbs who was remembering how it felt to pull her from the basement, the one who took care of his own, who would never do something that he felt like was taking advantage of her.

Gibbs swallowed a couple times, thickly, and drew in breaths that seemed to stretch into eternity. Kate felt helpless, unsure, fingers digging into his shirt and back. She wanted this, him, but was unwilling to beg, unwilling to force something he would regret. And maybe, just maybe, she could see the reason behind his reason.

"Kate," he whispered, gently, almost sounding embarrassed, unsure himself.

She knew his body still wanted this, his lower half still had her completely pinned, but she also knew that his mind wasn't going to cooperate.  
When he said nothing, the struggle for the needed words seemingly too large, she realized she could spare him, help him.

"We can't do this," she finally whispered, moving her eyes up to meet his.

He gave her a soft kiss, and a sad smile, before letting his fingers slip free of her side, her waist. Gibbs reached up, smoothing his fingers over her lips, and then brushing her hair away from her face. He looked at her, like she was something too precious to break, and like he _was_ so sure that he was going to do it. She'd argue to the ends of the earth, tomorrow. Right now, she was too tired, too weary to argue, even with herself. Gibbs was right, as he so often was.

"Not like this," he said, holding her cheek trying to express with his eyes what his mouth wouldn't say. "Another time...but now, you're tired. I want ya to be thinkin' straight. Be clear on what this means."

Kate could disagree, of course. She could say that she was thinking straight, which would be at least half a lie. She did, however know what this meant, what she wanted and was starting to dare to hope that he did too. Something so much bigger than a one night stand, something that would last until it ran its course, which would hopefully be a lot longer than a few months or years. A lifetime would be a nice place to start.

She didn't say any of that though, because in reality, she was feeling more exhausted than she had remembered even a few moments ago. It was only Gibbs' hands and her willpower that were keeping her this side of winning in the fight against gravity, and she let out a small yawn that drove his point home sharply. Tomorrow, well then she would argue until the ends of the earth if it was needed. Tonight, she'd let Gibbs win this round.

She didn't want to leave, didn't know how to ask to stay. He only went a few seconds before solving her problem for her.

"You can take my bed," he said, wrapping an arm around her and heading for the stairs.

He didn't complain when she let more of her weight sag against him, when he was all but carrying her up the stairs, because her legs were unwilling to take another step. He didn't meet her eyes, didn't make her feel weaker for being weak, and she'd kiss him if she didn't already know where that would lead.

He led her up the next flight of stairs, stopping outside a door. He opened it up to reveal a simple bedroom, the bed made up neatly, clearly very rarely used. She had spotted the blankets and pillow on the couch already, and the stillness of the room confirmed that it was largely just for show. She looked up at him, and his eyes were still dark, but also so gentle. Kate wasn't sure how she had missed it until now, but it was startlingly obvious that Gibbs loved her. Maybe not like she wanted(though maybe she was right in believing it could be) but maybe it didn't matter what form it came out in the end, because being loved by Gibbs was pretty rare, and she was feeling more than pretty lucky at the moment.

"You're cryin'" he muttered, turning to her, wiping her cheeks free of the tears with a softer touch than such a hard man should possess.

She hadn't realized she was, didn't know how to tell him that they weren't for any of the reasons that had brought her here.

"You're gonna be okay," he said, and pulled her to his chest again. She held on, breathing him in, and letting a feeling of home spread through her and thaw out parts that had started to feel frozen.

"Sorry," she said, finally pulling away. His shirt was damp again, but she felt so much better than she had when she arrived tonight and let herself break inside his living room. Apparently sobbing against her boss had its perks.

He gave her a smile, shaking his head, silent again. No mentions of rules, he simple turned away from her. She almost asked him to stay, when she realized he was simply heading over to his dresser. He pulled open the top two drawers, grabbing a pair of sweatpants, and a shirt that would be far too long, and returned to her.

"Change," he said, firmly, kindly. "I'll be here."

She took the clothes, nodding and smiling, and pretending she didn't notice how his eyes followed her off into the bathroom, breaking away only when she closed the door behind her.

**Gibbs**

In his life, Gibbs had become a master at many things. One of the biggest things, one that often caused him grief, was the ability to make mistakes. Not the little sort, that could be overlooked, no Gibbs wasn't going to settle there. He made the sort of mistakes that stood up and smacked you in the face with their blinding obviousness(all after the fact of course). It was something his mistakes and Kate might share, when she woke up and found herself wrapped so snugly in his arms tomorrow morning. Even with that risk, he wasn't going to regret staying when she had returned from the bathroom and asked it of him. There was nowhere on this entire planet that he would have picked over this, right here with her.

He laid his head against hers, breathing in deeply. The scent of her hair, of her skin had him wanting and hoping he never had to let her go again. For all that had happened the last few days, for the price it had cost for them both, right now he felt like a damn lucky man. The sort he didn't deserve to be, and hadn't been for a very long time.

Gibbs closed his eyes again, trying once more to settle his mind enough to actually sleep. He needed it, they both needed this, but he couldn't seem to find any real rest. His mind was still too jumbled up, with words he wanted to say and words that he had prevented himself from saying since day one with Kate. Words he had buried so deeply, thinking he was saving them both, that he knew he wasn't going to get them tonight, or even by the morning. Would she give him a lifetime, what was left of it, to let him get them for her? Would she accept them in every language he knew, some he'd learn, to make it up to her?

"Gibbs?" Kate asked, her sleep coated voice causing him to draw in a deep breath. She sounded exhausted, and amazing, and the sort of heaven a man like Gibbs could still believe in.

"Sorry," he whispered into her hair.

He wasn't sure why he said it, why he was apologizing, but he figured he owed her at least one.

She nodded, wiggling back more until there was exactly no space between them.

He willed her to settle, to fall back into sleep, but he didn't need to see her face to know that she was staring at his wall. He wasn't great, at the talking thing, never really had been. Of course, Gibbs wasn't great with crying either (and yet he had held his ground when she sobbed against him) and he didn't have to give an eloquent speech to let her know that he still wasn't running if she wasn't done healing.

"I'm here, Kate," he said, into the skin of her shoulder. "Not goin' unless you tell me to."

_Ever._

She shifted slowly, pulling herself free from his grasp and he didn't fight to hold her as much as he wanted to. He ran his tongue over his lips, wondering if he managed to say exactly the wrong thing-another habit he had- when she rolled over to face him and scooted in close again. He pressed a kiss to her head, to her lips, to her cheek, before settling down to look her in the eye.

"I'm okay," she muttered, her breath ghosting across his face, warm and close and exactly what he needed to feel to know that she really was okay.

"What do you-" he started, before taking in a shaky breath. "What do you need, Kate?"

She looked him in the eye, and leaned in to kiss him. Gibbs knew he should keep it brief, but her tongue against his lips had him spiraling away from _should_ a little too quickly. She pulled him to her, half over her and he sure as hell didn't want to say no again.

"Kate," he said, pulling back and looking down into her eyes. "Sure this is what you want? 'Cause I won't want to let you go again."

"Gibbs," she said, pulling him down again, her breath hot against his ear. "I'm sure, don't stop."

"Not unless you tell me too," he agreed.


End file.
